


The Suit

by OneOddKitteh



Series: Very Important Sabriel AU's [12]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Different First Meeting, Alternate Universe - Human, Artist Sam, First Meetings, Fluff, M/M, Musician Gabriel, Street Musician
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-08-12
Updated: 2015-08-12
Packaged: 2018-04-14 08:28:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,368
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4557678
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/OneOddKitteh/pseuds/OneOddKitteh
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gabriel meets The Suit while he's busking for rent money. Since when did his life become a questionably directed sit-com?</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Suit

They were tall. They’d been watching Gabriel for some time now, and he wasn’t sure how to feel about it. Their hair was pulled back into a neat bun, their suit perfectly tailored to emphasise broad shoulders and a fine ass. Why was someone like that pausing in the station to watch Gabriel?

He met their eyes as he played, and they glanced away, flushing. Cute. Not so cute that he missed the foot-tap, though. A layer of sound dropped so the melody could be heard, clear and piercing through the muffled noise of the subway. God, Gabriel loved those acoustics. Nothing beat the sound of a violin echoing over the sound of footsteps and idle chatting. He closed his eyes, and swayed with the music. Misty Mountains never got as much money as his pop adaptions, but it always got the most watchers. Like for instance, the one who was still standing there when Gabriel opened his eyes.

Gabriel made eye contact again, raising an eyebrow. Not that he minded, but Suits usually had trains to catch. He got a bashful smile, before they pulled out a phone. Ah, so they were on a time limit. He knew it. Gabriel watched their eyes widen.

‘Oh shit,’ they mouthed.

Gabriel winced. Ouch. He hoped he hadn’t cost them their pay slip, or worse, their job. They didn’t look like they’d yell though, which was the big thing. He’d had all sorts through his space before, but the yelling ones were the worst. Looking away, he smiled at a kid in a dress, tugging on an adults hand. Kids liked listening, but never had the choice to stop. By the time they had that control, they didn’t care anymore.

Tapping the loop pedal one last time, Gabriel lay down his violin, switching off the amp and reaching for his water. He'd rather coffee, but life never claimed to be fair. If it were fair, he’d be playing in a stadium alongside Lucy, and not busking to help with the rent.

“I know, I’m sorry. Family emergency. No, I’m fine, but I can’t come in. Yes, I know I owe you. No, this isn’t a mid-life crisis, I’m only 25, stop. I am handing in my notice tomorrow though. See you then, sorry, don’t tell Dean yet please, keep it  _down_ \- ok, no. You're not even saying words anymore. Bye.”

Water sprayed out of Gabriel’s nose and mouth.  _What._  He turned, unable to hide his curiosity. They looked up, grimaced at him as if to say ‘shit happens, right?’ Dear gods, Gabriel was witnessing something  _new._  This was a whole ‘nother level of the shenanigans he normally caught. He turned back to his case, pulling out his phone, still wiping water off his chin. His voyeurism would only embarrass them both. He also needed to start playing again soon if he wanted to get practice song in before the lunchtime rush. Gabriel was debating between a pop-punk mix or a Britney Spears/Beyonce mashup when someone crouched beside his case, dumping two fifties and a twenty on top of all the one dollar bills. The Suit. They looked up at the sound of his loud inhale. Jesus Christ, this person was just full of surprises.

“Hi,” they said, smiling softly. “I just uh, really love your playing. I’ve seen you with the guitar and cornet too, but violin is my favorite.”

Gabriel nodded silently. Normally liking his music didn’t equate to 120 dollars in his case, but what the fuck, it was their life, and their 25 year old crisis.

“And uh, I wanted to thank you.”

“Why?” Gabriel frowned.

“For playing.”

They smiled, like that was meant to mean something monumental, and turned to leave. Like, what the fuck even? Gabriel stared at them, then down at his new riches. Balth and Cas were not going to believe this.

 –

Gabriel hadn’t quite forgotten it all when they walked into the coffee shop. He barely recognised them. Their hair was out, they’d grown a beard, and how dare anyone look just as good in paint splattered jeans as they did in a suit? They smiled when they saw him, as if he was just who they were looking for.

“Hi there,” he said automatically as they approached. “What can I do for you?”

“You’re Gabriel, right?”

He blinked, and pointed at his badge. Generally people never looked at it, let alone spoke to him by name. Knowing his name without staring awkwardly at his chest in the first place- that was just weird. 

They rolled their eyes at him good naturedly, and it felt like a blessing. Dimples. Their stress lines were replaced with crinkles at the corner of their eyes and the cutest dimples he’d ever seen.

“I’m Sam,” they said. “I hope it’s not too creepy, but I found out your name through a work-friend. They said you wouldn’t mind.”

“Ok, who’s this work friend? “

Sam grinned at him, unoffended by his wariness.

“Castiel. I worked on the law side of his translation service.”

“Oh-kay,” Gabriel said, dragging the syllables. “And what wouldn’t I mind?”

“I just wanted to give you tickets to an exhibition of mine,” Sam said. “You were the catalyst for the whole thing. I just want to thank you for that.”

Gabriel closed his eyes tight, and shook his head a little. What did he even  _do_ to deserve thanks? Why was Cas giving his name and workplace address to attractive people? 

“Ok, sure.”

Sam smiled at him, and they looked like they understood his confusion.

“If I hadn’t called in sick, I would have been accepted another project. You reminded me that some things are more important than appeasing my dad with a boring, respectable job, y’know? Your music is like magic, and you’re there nearly every day like clockwork. I wanted that dedication to my art.”

“Oh.”

He wasn’t sure he got it. Sam smiled at him anyway, and handed over an envelope.

“It’s up to you,” they shrugged. “But I’d love to see you there. Also, you guys do soy coffees, right?”

By the time Gabriel could think of a normal response, Sam and his double-shot soy mocha were long gone.

–

“He’s not a creep,” Cas said. “I feel like you underestimate the power your music has to move people, Gabriel.”

“And I feel like you’re not the best judge of who is and isn’t a creep,” Balthazar called from the kitchen. Balth had a point, although he wasn't a great judge either, considering his particular lifestyle. At least when he was cooking, the house smelled like pasta rather than sex and weed. 

“Shut up,” Cas replied. He stared at Gabriel, wearing his serious face. “He’s really good. You’ll enjoy it. I'll cover your shifts that day as well.”

“I’ll see what happens,” Gabriel said, pretending that he wasn’t sold.

Curiosity was a bitch. 

 –

Gabriel wandered into the gallery alone, among crowds of students and couples. He hadn't seen it that crowded since the Australian sculpture artist displayed her flesh flowers there. Gabriel smiled at the attendant, grabbing a flyer and accepting the directions to the new section. OF  _course_ it was where the crowds were. 

Sam found him still there half an hour later. 

"You came," he said, like he'd known Gabriel would be unable to resist.

“They’re beautiful.”

Sam smiled, bumping his shoulder companionably.

“Glad you think so,” he said. “Have a favorite?”

They were hyper-realistic yet simple. Gabriel looked at each of them, smiling softly. A pair of paint-splattered sneakers, someone’s hand curled lovingly around a pen, the sharp lines of a suit shoulder. They must have taken hours each, if not days of work. One of the paintings was about half the size of Gabriel. It was just one of the paintings that had captured Gabriel, though.

“The Suit.” Gabriel told him. He could swear that Sam had painted each individual strand of fabric. “You got it perfect.”

“I took photos first,” Sam shrugged. "It's not as hard with a reference." 

“Don’t try and be modest,” Gabriel said, grinning over at him. “We’re a wonderfully artistic pair. Own it.”

Sam’s dimples were back. God  _bless_  the dimples. 

**Author's Note:**

> I have to say, this is my favourite little AU and I feel as if I haven't done it justice. The amount of incredible street-musicians I've seen around Australia is monumental, but I never lose the intense feeling of 'oh my god, why are you doing this for coin donations?' I wanted to capture my adoration for the sound of violin in the subway by using Sam's adoration for it- because you can't tell me Sam wouldn't miss a train while listening to that.


End file.
